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John Clarke-Whitfeld
(1770 - 1836)
In my bosom contentment shall reign
(S.A.T.B.+reduction)
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In my bosom contentment shall reign
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from Eight Glees, Op. 4. Published in 1798, when Clarke was Master of the Boys at the Chapel Royal, Dublin.
Lyrics: James Hurdis
In my bosom contentment shall reign,
And despair shall torment me no more;
I have seen my lov'd fair once again,
And she came with a smile to my door.
I have seen her, tho' transient her stay,
Tho' time would not loiter and wait;
And the show'r has not yet wash'd away
The small print of her foot at my gate.
Rapid day, the strong reason explain
Why thy steeds were so quick to be gone,
To remove my sweet angel again,
And to leave me to wander alone.
Come again and, to merit my praise,
Travel slow thro' the regions above,
And I'll give thee the gratefullest lays
Which can flow from the bosom of love.
O return and, to win my goodwill,
When I see her approach from afar,
Turn thy steeds with their heads to a hill,
And lock fast ev'ry wheel of thy car.
In my bosom contentment shall reign,
And despair shall torment me no more;
I have seen my lov'd fair once again,
And she came with a smile to my door.
I have seen her, tho' transient her stay,
Tho' time would not loiter and wait;
And the show'r has not yet wash'd away
The small print of her foot at my gate.
Rapid day, the strong reason explain
Why thy steeds were so quick to be gone,
To remove my sweet angel again,
And to leave me to wander alone.
Come again and, to merit my praise,
Travel slow thro' the regions above,
And I'll give thee the gratefullest lays
Which can flow from the bosom of love.
O return and, to win my goodwill,
When I see her approach from afar,
Turn thy steeds with their heads to a hill,
And lock fast ev'ry wheel of thy car.